The PNW continues to sweep the skies with both effulgent blue and hail. And it makes me think I have special powers or some such chimerical baloney. This afternoon, feeling especially accomplished after a long day, I came home and ran. And felt great about it. And lasted for a whole 2 miles. And then collapsed on the couch like a dead tree. A repulsive dead tree untouched even by organisms of decay, and with a coelom full of turbulent sea water that has no business being there. Nausea, heartburn, colon spasm; the whole gang came to partay. I can't even keep tea down right now, but at least my fatigue feels warranted. I may not eat for a day or so after this one.
Why is it that I am most motivated to exercise, or run errands or do chores when I feel [physically] most miserable? It's almost as if when comfort sets in I'm perfectly happy to just sit back and enjoy it. Then, when the rotten feelings come I feel an extra push to run myself into the ground in order to beat them at their own game. Except most of the time I don't feel better for it afterward. Or maybe the ambition is just a side effect of the sunshine... In any case, despite this [not so] positive reinforcement that now has me desperately pinned to the hard, flat, motionless couch cushions, somehow I don't think I'll be deterred from running again tomorrow afternoon unless an icy storm hits.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
publishing misnomers
Some may recall that last year when I got married I put an excruciating amount of thought into changing my name, both legally and professionally. I ended up deciding to publish as Name Initial Maiden-Initial Last. It has since become apparent that I made the wrong decision.
With this new outpour of publications and grants, my family has realized that they are substantially upset that since my maiden name is represented only as an initial, I am not recognizable as their kin. I have that distinctive maiden name where I'm related to everyone else in the world who has it, and my family is very upset that it is not represented. They didn't care nine months ago before I had published or been awarded anything, but feelings change with press coverage...
The obvious solution to this is to scrap Name Initial Maiden-Initial Last and use Name Maiden Last from now on.
A brief refresher on why I did not do this in the first place:
With this new outpour of publications and grants, my family has realized that they are substantially upset that since my maiden name is represented only as an initial, I am not recognizable as their kin. I have that distinctive maiden name where I'm related to everyone else in the world who has it, and my family is very upset that it is not represented. They didn't care nine months ago before I had published or been awarded anything, but feelings change with press coverage...
The obvious solution to this is to scrap Name Initial Maiden-Initial Last and use Name Maiden Last from now on.
A brief refresher on why I did not do this in the first place:
1) Publishing with two last names (and no, Maiden does not pass for an obvious middle name) confuses potential "referencers" who would proceed to cite me incorrectly. This leads to a dual body problem: one "Last, NameInitial.MaidenInitial." and one "Maiden-Last, NameInitial."... and being two people is not ideal;Although all these points remain totally valid, I may have to throw all caution to the wind and change my publishing name. Indeed, the very thing I thought I had avoided with my previous reasoning. When I first changed my name, I had no publications yet and it didn't matter. But now, I'm wrapping up revisions on my fifth manuscript, and I have two (publicized) fellowships. Good thing that in five years no one will remember my first five manuscripts and two fellowship awards anyway?...
2) Publishing with two last names confuses potential bosses who would proceed to not figure out how to administer my paychecks and W2s correctly;
3) I can't hyphenate because I don't legally have two last names, and hell if I'm going to go through that legal name-change bullshit again to do something that I didn't want to do in the first place.
Labels:
publishing,
science writing,
women in science
Monday, April 11, 2011
blue skies, hail, nausea and wine
Monday mornings never sink me like they do many people in my midst. Usually, I'm excited to begin whatever needs beginning on Mondays. This morning has not been my average Monday.
It's beautiful outside, with a classically PNW combination of blue skies and hail. It's very fitting with my acid jazz and manuscript-writing ambiance. What doesn't fit is this biting maelstrom of nausea and acid reflux that I've had since last week (boosted, indubitably, by Boardgame Night's over-the-top partaking of 4 glasses of wine Saturday evening.. oops).
The manuscript is in the "accepted pending revisions" phase, as I choose to interpret it. So in a mish-mosh of protein analysis, scoping and drug administration, I'm finalizing my fourth first author paper. It's not that I don't enjoy this kind of day, sans the physical irritations, but I want nothing more than to sit at home in my calmly lit reading chair with a huge pot of tea and my book about George, Nicholas and Wilhelm and the events leading up to WWI, pop a promethazine and wait for sleep to catch me before emesis does.
But I will resubmit this manuscript first.
It's a Moondog kind of day.
It's beautiful outside, with a classically PNW combination of blue skies and hail. It's very fitting with my acid jazz and manuscript-writing ambiance. What doesn't fit is this biting maelstrom of nausea and acid reflux that I've had since last week (boosted, indubitably, by Boardgame Night's over-the-top partaking of 4 glasses of wine Saturday evening.. oops).
The manuscript is in the "accepted pending revisions" phase, as I choose to interpret it. So in a mish-mosh of protein analysis, scoping and drug administration, I'm finalizing my fourth first author paper. It's not that I don't enjoy this kind of day, sans the physical irritations, but I want nothing more than to sit at home in my calmly lit reading chair with a huge pot of tea and my book about George, Nicholas and Wilhelm and the events leading up to WWI, pop a promethazine and wait for sleep to catch me before emesis does.
But I will resubmit this manuscript first.
It's a Moondog kind of day.
Labels:
crohn's,
nausea,
promethazine,
science writing
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
fellowships and grants -- pre-graduate
You know that feeling you get when people give you money? Like, real money? The kind of money that supports three years of research (read: three years of stipend) and makes your resume look really pretty? Well, I do now. Two months ago I was awarded a Fellowship from the graduate program at which I will be starting in the fall...
This morning, along with monstrous cramps and nausea, I received an email from NSF congratulating me on receiving a prized NSF GRFP grant.
...say what?
Please understand: I wrote this grant before being admitted to a graduate program. I did NOT expect to receive it. I was hoping with all of my might that I would get onto the "honorable mention" list. I am totally blown away.
Though I was not yet in a graduate program during the application process, I was very fortunate to have my boss' input as well as guidance from a former NSF GRFP applicant and awardee. Below are the primary points which guided my application:
Research Proposal
1. Format:
3. Do NOT emphasize clinical translation; NSF is not interested in funding biomedical work. For example, if you are proposing to study a model of Parkinson's disease, write about "neurodegeneration" or "stimulating neuroplasticity".
4. Give brief, clear descriptions of things specific to your project very early on. Your reviewers will be familiar with your field (e.g, Neuroscience), but do not assume that they will be familiar with specifics (e.g., substantia nigra, tyrosine hydroxylase).
5. If you are an undergraduate, or an RA, write about a project that you would like to do. In my case, I proposed a project based out of my boss' lab on the off chance that I would stay here for graduate school. Because I ended up entering a program at a different institution (and have yet to even begin rotations), the project will change. The GRFP understands this and is more interested in funding the scientist than the project. As long as you submit your updates to them, and acknowledge NSF funding in abstracts and publications, you are set.
Research History
1. Don't try to be too creative. NSF is interested in anything you have ever done in scientific research, and how those things have brought science to the broader community.
2. That's... that's really about the gist of it. Find further suggestions at Philip Guo's blog.
Personal Statement
1. Two thirds of this essay was paraphrased from my graduate school statement of purpose. Communicate who you are as a budding scientist.
2. The final third of my essay talked about my leadership experiences and how they had impacted the greater community (e.g., climate change activism, national affiliations and how they have influenced my scientific collaborations thus far).
* Happy to email out pdfs of my essays to anyone interested in a sample.
This morning, along with monstrous cramps and nausea, I received an email from NSF congratulating me on receiving a prized NSF GRFP grant.
...say what?
Please understand: I wrote this grant before being admitted to a graduate program. I did NOT expect to receive it. I was hoping with all of my might that I would get onto the "honorable mention" list. I am totally blown away.
Though I was not yet in a graduate program during the application process, I was very fortunate to have my boss' input as well as guidance from a former NSF GRFP applicant and awardee. Below are the primary points which guided my application:
Research Proposal
1. Format:
Introduction2. Specific Aims #2-3 cannot depend on the outcome of Specific Aim #1
Two to three Specific Aims described with experimental approach
Brief conclusion describing implications
References
3. Do NOT emphasize clinical translation; NSF is not interested in funding biomedical work. For example, if you are proposing to study a model of Parkinson's disease, write about "neurodegeneration" or "stimulating neuroplasticity".
4. Give brief, clear descriptions of things specific to your project very early on. Your reviewers will be familiar with your field (e.g, Neuroscience), but do not assume that they will be familiar with specifics (e.g., substantia nigra, tyrosine hydroxylase).
5. If you are an undergraduate, or an RA, write about a project that you would like to do. In my case, I proposed a project based out of my boss' lab on the off chance that I would stay here for graduate school. Because I ended up entering a program at a different institution (and have yet to even begin rotations), the project will change. The GRFP understands this and is more interested in funding the scientist than the project. As long as you submit your updates to them, and acknowledge NSF funding in abstracts and publications, you are set.
Research History
1. Don't try to be too creative. NSF is interested in anything you have ever done in scientific research, and how those things have brought science to the broader community.
2. That's... that's really about the gist of it. Find further suggestions at Philip Guo's blog.
Personal Statement
1. Two thirds of this essay was paraphrased from my graduate school statement of purpose. Communicate who you are as a budding scientist.
2. The final third of my essay talked about my leadership experiences and how they had impacted the greater community (e.g., climate change activism, national affiliations and how they have influenced my scientific collaborations thus far).
* Happy to email out pdfs of my essays to anyone interested in a sample.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Remicade, and other stories
In a striking turn of events, I feel like a bag of bones today. A very nauseous, very tired, ever so slightly irritable bag of bones.
My umpteenth Remicade infusion was Saturday, and I left the hospital feeling ill, which typically does not happen. Full disclosure; I did enter the infusion clinic preemptively concerned about having developed Remicadibodies and having an allergic reaction. This manifestation stemmed from my sort-of-recent hyper-allergenic condition (read: psoriasis, dermatitis, new mouse allergies, hives). While there was no immediate reaction to be seen -- bummer -- I did not feel well for hours afterward. In fact, I did not feel well for any part of Sunday either. And, in case reiteration is necessary, I do not feel well today.
It is highly unlikely that this is more attributable to Remicade than to the gluttonous amounts of [cooked] leafy greens I've been eating of late. I would even stretch to suggest it might be a result of the increased carb-heavy (read: salty, sugary, processed) foods whose ingestion I have defended on the basis of not being able to chew anything with much of a texture (potentially making the leafy greens an even more obvious culprit). Thanks to Remicade, I'm not in very much pain, but those manifold side effects are aggregating.
And yet, this bag of bones was here at work promptly at 7am processing tissue samples and simultaneously probing nitrocellulose membranes. This means I have what it takes to survive six years of this work load ten fold in graduate school, yes?..
My umpteenth Remicade infusion was Saturday, and I left the hospital feeling ill, which typically does not happen. Full disclosure; I did enter the infusion clinic preemptively concerned about having developed Remicadibodies and having an allergic reaction. This manifestation stemmed from my sort-of-recent hyper-allergenic condition (read: psoriasis, dermatitis, new mouse allergies, hives). While there was no immediate reaction to be seen -- bummer -- I did not feel well for hours afterward. In fact, I did not feel well for any part of Sunday either. And, in case reiteration is necessary, I do not feel well today.
It is highly unlikely that this is more attributable to Remicade than to the gluttonous amounts of [cooked] leafy greens I've been eating of late. I would even stretch to suggest it might be a result of the increased carb-heavy (read: salty, sugary, processed) foods whose ingestion I have defended on the basis of not being able to chew anything with much of a texture (potentially making the leafy greens an even more obvious culprit). Thanks to Remicade, I'm not in very much pain, but those manifold side effects are aggregating.
And yet, this bag of bones was here at work promptly at 7am processing tissue samples and simultaneously probing nitrocellulose membranes. This means I have what it takes to survive six years of this work load ten fold in graduate school, yes?..
Thursday, March 31, 2011
in the throes of pre-graduate school anxiety
There are some types of uncertainty with which I do well (lab project outcomes). Other types of uncertainty (did I choose the right graduate program) highlight the fomentation of anxiety at which I excel.
I have read that this is a common after-effect of deciding on a program, or a post doctoral or even faculty position. The additional consideration that I am entering this with a much more specialized background than most students (read: 4 years in a lab where I introduced, managed and wrote manuscripts for my own projects) puts the anxiety into perspective.
I have chosen an excellent program, with a handful of outstanding mentors and a supportive student populous; and in it, I will thrive.
My particular mental block comes from peering (possibly, too) far into my future. Research, for me, will always be most exciting in the world of repairing neurodegenerative pathologies that lead to motor dysfunction. Ideally, Parkinson's and Huntington's diseases. But there are also technical skills hovering in my dreams that I can only learn (in my chosen program) in spinal cord injury research.
This is perfectly adequate in terms of developing interventions for motor impairments. However, it presents a confound to the seamless progression of my academic career. Namely, if I transition from the basal ganglia (PD and HD, where I have spent the last four years) to the spinal cord, I risk limiting my future post doc positions to spinal cord labs.
Had I the resources, I would present the stats on graduate students who obtained post doc/ faculty positions in a different sub-field of neuroscience than their graduate studies... For the time being, I will attempt to resolve my inner conflict with the hope that it will all settle itself when I get there.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
graduate school by the numbers
I can hide it no longer. My recent guest post series is up at Benchfly.com:
Labels:
accommodation,
crohn's,
disability,
graduate school,
neuroscience
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